


It's not the end.. is it?

by Lamamu



Series: Midam ramblings [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Hurt Adam Milligan, M/M, Self-Harm, Someone has a sick sense of humour, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, michael doesn't know, midam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 01:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamamu/pseuds/Lamamu
Summary: Please don't hate me! I can't control how my muses are feeling.Something happened to my Adam muse in the last couple of days, and he's in a very, very bad place as a result. Unfortunately, Michael has absolutely zero idea what is going on.But his brother Gabriel /does/, and is going to step in, if only to make sure that he didn't not act when he had the chance.That part hasn't played out yet..But this Greek Tragedy must go on.





	It's not the end.. is it?

**Author's Note:**

> Remember! This is just Adam's POV, and my muse dealing with his day to day life.
> 
> It will get better.. eventually.

**~~~~~**

He just couldn’t do it.

It was too much for one man, one  _ human _ to deal with. Humans weren’t mean to love archangels, not in the way that Adam loved Michael.

The way he literally _ pined  _ for him day by day, night by anxious, sleepless night. He couldn’t eat either, or focus on work. Slowly, he got thinner, more drawn, weaker, though he tried to hide it in the usual way.. Until he couldn’t even summon the energy to do that anymore. Eventually he even stopped going to work, taking an extended mental health break before he ruined everything by getting fired. Or worse, killing a patient with his own negligence.

The heartache, he thought he could get over, even if he never understood why,  _ why _ he couldn’t move on from Michael, even when he couldn’t remember who he was and what had happened to him. Adam thought he could bury it in a mixture of whiskey, house renovations and ...whatever else he could do to make his mind think of  _ anything _ but the archangel that wouldn’t even give him the time of day.

He’d even stopped answering Adam when he prayed to him and Adam just didn’t know  _ why _ .

Of course, Adam couldn’t possibly know the reason, not when Michael hadn’t explained what he’d had to do to Adam’s soul to keep him alive in the cage. Michael had never explained anything… and so Adam didn’t know  _ this _ was the precise reason that he couldn’t move on.

And so on he struggled, every day hoping the yearning would fade, or that he could keep himself so busy that he had no time to think about what was missing from his life. The good thing was, after the incident with the glass, Adam had made it work. He’d cleared his mind, started walking and made sure he ate at least once a day. His hand started to heal, and it didn’t look like there was any lasting damage to the tendons on his hand.

Things weren’t  _ good _ , but they were improving, and thanks to a reluctant consultation with his former psychologist, Adam was relearning the techniques he’d used to calm his mind.

So.. he was managing, if not okay.

And it had been a month since he’d heard from the archangel. A long month, or maybe more since the last time he’d responded to Adam, or gave any indication that he was listening, or that he even saw what the human doomed to love him was going through.

But Adam was  _ managing. _

But then the texting started. The texting started, and although at first Adam was suspicious of who it was, he quickly came to believe that it was the archangel, finally reaching out to him. It went back and forth for hours, and by the end of the day Adam was convinced that it was Michael he was talking to..and that finally,  _ finally _ they could turn a corner and move on.

The ice had been broken, and Adam fell asleep that night content in the knowledge that he’d at least be getting his friend back. His heart, though still sad, was calm. Quiet. At peace, for the first time that he could remember in well, ever. Michael had reached out to him, and the unbearable silence was over.

The next morning though, when Adam checked his phone, his heart sank, cracking into millions of pieces that he didn’t think he’d ever recover from. He didn’t know what it was, but this latest.. Message was just ...off.

Like whoever had sent it had slipped up.

Adam sent a baited reply, hoping,  _ praying _ that what he suspected wasn’t true, but when his phone chimed again his worst fears were confirmed.

It wasn’t Michael he was talking to, and it never had been.

The archangel was still silent...and the young blonde was at the butt end of someone else’s cruel idea of a joke.

Whoever it was knew enough about both of them to make it realistic, and had played him for a fool, using words that would trigger Adam into thinking they were Michael. They’d let him believe that he was talking to the only one he’d ever truly loved, and exploited his feelings when he’d begged ‘Michael’ to keep talking, to stay, to come over and just.. Be there, with him for just one night. Just to talk. Just to sit on the couch and pat the kitten and just.. fucking talk.

But it wasn’t Michael. It was just a joke.

He, Adam Milligan, was nothing but a gullible fool. 

With that realisation, Adam simply lost the will to go on. He wilted, like a neglected plant in the harsh summer sun.

The next few hours  _ (days) _ passed by in the fog he’d come to recognise as his depression, but this time he didn’t care. Adam couldn’t even summon the energy to bother drinking or finding some pills to take away how utterly  _ spent _ he was, and how, after everything it was this..

..this, that made him just.. 

… give up.

Alcohol and pills were just a temporary fix to problem with no end. Keeping his hands busy left his mind free to think, and for someone already suffering like Adam was, having time to think was the last thing he needed.

It.. _ this _ latest thing, was just. Too. Much.

Nothing was going to be right, nothing was going to get better. Michael was  _ never _ going to show up and talk to him, and they were never  _ ever _ going to move forward.

After centuries in the cage, a stint in a mental hospital with Michael, and a good chunk of time with no memories and the ever present  _ why _ , Adam simply had no fight left. He loved Michael with his  _ entire _ being, and he always would.

But this was.. Impossible.

And yes, he thought about contacting Michael. Of course he did. He prayed, swallowing his pride yet again to beg, but he knew before the words left his heart that it would go unanswered. 

Even though against all odds, Michael turned up, he only stayed for a moment, and Adam was just...

To try to describe how Adam was feeling was hard. If someone had bothered to ask him, he’d have brushed them off with a sad smile and just said it was a low day, and that tomorrow, or the next day he was sure to be feeling better. But it wasn’t true.

Inside, Adam was.. Empty. He wanted to cry but there were no tears to shed. Numb, he was numb, and the absolute nothingness he felt was clogging up his insides. Hot and cold, from one moment to the next, from feeling nothing to  _ everything _ and back again. His soul wept, mourning,  _ longing _ for a completion that would never come to pass. Everything ached. Adam felt like he was trapped on a ledge in a burning building with nothing but fear and pain on either side. If he went one way, he would burn, and the flames would lick at his skin, devouring his being with angry hot, eternal hellfire that there was no escape from. If he went the other, he would fall, and in that fall live a thousand lifetimes of never ending despair and wretched anguish that would only cease when he hit the ground.

Either way, there was no out for Adam. In this, there was no happy ending.

He was lost in the dark with no tangible path in any direction, though his eyes could still see the wide open space in front of him. Sort of.

It seemed to stretch forever, though Adam knew that wasn’t possible, it was just the dense fog that had risen as the night passed, which in itself was odd enough, given he couldn’t see through it in the first place.

There was nothing but  _ Adam _ , forever lost in the night.

He didn’t even know how he got there, and he didn’t care, nothing mattered. Nothing mattered except the need to just  _ make it stop _ . The heartache, the pain, the absolute mess that was in his head, and the terrible, dreadful knowledge that it was never going to end.

Ever.

There was no way out.

Well, there was one, and it was Adam’s last resort.

Sure he’d made someone a promise, but promises were made to be broken. Something he was well familiar with.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, shutting out all thoughts of the archangel and what might have been. It didn’t matter anymore. Adam was so damn tired of fighting it, and he wanted it to end.

Adam took a step forward, and turned his back on the fog.

Maybe this way, they would both be free.

“I love you too much.”

He inhaled again, folded his arms across the ache in his chest and leaned backwards, letting himself drop backwards into the fog, falling as though there would someone there to catch him.

“I’m sorry.”

A trust fall.

Only there wasn’t, and he knew there wouldn’t be. There was only empty space, and he was alone.

Adam kept falling.

He lived his thousand lifetimes, had a thousand happy endings.. but the ground never came.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me.
> 
> <3  
> <3  
> <3  
> As soon as they have a day that is nice, I'll share it.!


End file.
